


All the Beautiful Things (I Left Behind for You)

by Seeking7



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Four (Linked Universe)-centric, Four goes out Caesar Zeppeli style, Four has to be the resident adult for their sake, Legend and Warriors get on each other's nerves, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking7/pseuds/Seeking7
Summary: Four lives, dies, and lives again.++++A Christmas gift for my wonderful friend Anh!
Relationships: Four & His Dad, Four & Legend & Warriors (Linked Universe), Legend & Warriors (Linked Universe)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 92





	All the Beautiful Things (I Left Behind for You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, there! This fic is a gift for my amazing, funny, and incredibly talented friend, Anh. It was a part of the Spam Fam Secret Santa Exchange, and I had so much fun writing this and putting it together. I really hope you enjoy!

"This isn’t the campsite." 

Legend snorted at Warriors' words and rolled up the map in his hands. "Wow, thanks, Captain Obvious. I never would have guessed." 

Four looked at the sorrowful, monochrome scene before them, concluding that, indeed, they had not arrived at the campsite. With each passing day they spent in Wild’s Hyrule, it became more and more obvious that the champion’s world consisted almost exclusively of wilderness and wreckage. 

The crumbled fortress before them very much seemed to belong to the latter category. Soft, plush clusters of grass sprouted between cracks in marble pillars. Ladybugs marched atop crumbled buttresses and a bird had nested underneath a sheet of rotting roof shingles. A few blue and white flowers Four didn’t recognize swayed on the breeze, their petals shining like puddles of ivory against the mossy ruins. 

"Give the map to me," Warriors said. 

Legend shook his head. "No way. You're the reason that we're stuck here in the first place." 

"Me? What, was I the one reading the map and shouting out the wrong directions? Maybe if you had paid a little more attention to what you were saying and had made sure we took that right instead of a left, we wouldn't be here." 

Four rubbed his forehead and groaned as the two continued to squabble. It seemed like even the least directionally-challenged Links, a title that he, Warriors, and Legend tentatively held, weren't immune to getting lost in Wild's Hyrule. Perhaps a poor sense of direction was a side-effect of the scope and beauty of this world. In all honesty, if Four had been left to his own devices, he might have abandoned his better sense and wandered off as well. He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was unfortunate that subconscious wanderlust had decided to rear its head now, of all times. A simple task to go out, collect firewood, rock salt, and kill a lynel that lived a little too close to their campsite (not necessarily in that order) should not have led to them getting so hopelessly lost. 

"Around," Warriors insisted. 

"Through," Legend retorted. 

"Around."

"Through." 

_ "Around."  _

_ "Through."  _

Warriors and Legend turned to Four at the same time, their faces creased with irritation and glistening with sweat. The afternoon sun beat down brutally on the ruins before them, and Four winced. Whether it was from the harsh light or the harsh tone in the other's voices, he wasn't sure. 

"Four," the two heroes said in unison, "what do you think?"

"Think about what?" 

"The ruins," Warriors said, gesturing to the partially collapsed fortress before them. "Should we go around or through? I say around." 

"Through is better," Legend said, his chin tilted upwards the way it always was when he was sure of himself. 

Four ran a hand through his hair and peered into the fortress. Even though it was dilapidated in every sense of the word, it didn't look too dangerous to pass through. Sunlight burned against his back and stung his spine. He wouldn't be surprised if the metal buckles along his boots, belt, and baldric had begun to burn the skin underneath. 

Relaying these sentiments to the others, Four declared that he was in favor of passing through the ruins instead of spending time and energy trying to clamber around it. 

Warriors groaned and used the edge of his scarf to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "It's not safe!" 

"Listen," Four said, holding his hands out in a vaguely placating motion, "I doubt that there are many monsters in there and, even if there are, we have lots of potions. Trying to circumnavigate the fortress might lead to us getting even more lost and more tired." 

"He's right," Legend said, idly picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails. Warriors shook his head and mumbled vaguely under his breath. The trio of heroes cautiously entered the ruins, climbing quietly over the stone and marble skeleton of the once-proud edifice. Only the sound of bees and flaps of bird wings echoed through the stifling air. There was no grumble of moblins or bokoblins, and, as the trio ducked under a malformed archway and entered the fortress proper, Legend and Warriors' earlier squabbling resumed. 

"You need to pay more attention to what you're doing, Legend." 

"Why is everything my fault? Sure, I might have read one or two instructions wrong, but do you know how hard it is to read ink under bright sunlight? It gets all glossy and blurry and it's just a pain to look at." 

"Maybe you need glasses," Warriors said, his boots clicking on stone tile. Legend pushed aside a rotting desk in front of him, coughing as a cloud of dust plumed in the air, and insisted that he needed no such thing. Their complaints and quips bounced back and forth. Four would have been remiss to say that he didn't find the noise somewhat comforting -- not in the sense that he enjoyed the tension in the air, but the two hero's arguments were so commonplace that they had begun carrying a sense of solace familiar things often did. With a languid exhale and a happy twitch of his ears, Four followed behind the two heroes as they descended a flight of stairs and neared the fortress exit. Light filtered through cracks in the stone ceiling, illuminating a host of dust motes floating through the air. Streamers of dirt and powdered stone spilled through the damaged roof. Hair-thin slivers of the blue sky could be seen if Four squinted hard enough, and a cool breeze trickled from the roof. 

Four's smile grew a breath more genuine. 

It was a beautiful day to be alive. 

"Okay, then, Mr. High and Mighty Captain, how about you read the map from now on?" 

"Well, thanks to all your yelling, I have a headache to end all headaches. Right now I couldn't read my own name even if you spelled it out with tree trunks." 

"Awww...poor baby Linky can't read because his head has a boo-boo..." 

"Talk to me like that again and I'm going to quickly and eagerly remove your soul from your body." 

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up for a second, I have something in my boot." 

Warriors let out a noisy laugh, giggling something along the lines of 'poor baby Linky not being able to handle a rock in his shoe' as he waggled a finger under Legend's nose. The veteran slapped his hand away. Warriors laughed louder. Light spilled from the fortress exit behind them, a grand archway that provided a stunning view of the nearby hillside. Four rubbed his forehead as he caught up to Legend and Warriors. These two would be the death of him. 

"It's a good thing that we decided to go through the ruins," Four said, hooking his thumbs on his belt. "Legend, as soon as you're done with your boot, let's get out of here. Maybe if we scale one of the hills outside we'll be able to see the other guys."

"Hopefully," Legend said, leaning against a cracked pillar as he pulled off his boot. The ceiling groaned, and Four flinched. Warriors and Legend continued to squabble. 

Four took a few hesitant steps back, his eyes trained on the ceiling. A tremor no more consequential than those left behind by a passing breeze rumbled through the cracked stones above. Four let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Perhaps the fortress was more durable than he had thought. 

"Oh dear Hylia, Legend, how long are you going to take?" Warriors groaned. 

Legend made a face and turned his attention back to the boot in his hand. He shook it a few more times, letting out a melodramatic fart sound as each pebbles tumbled out, then shoved his boot back on. Warriors let out a sigh of relief as the two stood up and headed towards the fortress exit. 

"Do you really think we'll be able to see them from a hilltop or something?" Legend asked. Warriors shrugged. 

"I mean, I don't think we've even been gone for a whole hour. The sun hasn't started to set yet. If push comes to shove, we can head to Kakariko Town and speak with Wild's Impa. She might be able to help us." 

Legend chewed on his lip, furrowed his eyebrows, and leaned against a pillar. 

A knot turned in Four's stomach. 

"Legend--" Four said, stopping his exhortation to glance above him. A pebble fell from above, followed by another, and then another. The knot in Four's stomach turned into a vortex when he looked up at the ceiling. "Legend, Warriors, oh goddesses, move,  _ move _ **_move get out of the way!_ ** " 

A massive shadow fell over Legend and Warriors. Light poured in through the ceiling. 

**_"MOVE!"_ **

Four dashed and shoved the two heroes forward. 

Forward, and away from the crumbling ceiling. 

Forward, and away from the falling shadow meant for them. 

"Four! FOUR!" 

Four shivered as the shadow fell over him. He looked up, eyes locking with the flat rock plummeting towards him. 

Legend and Warriors looked on in horror. 

Four let out what he knew to be his last breath. 

And the ceiling caved in. 

XXXXXXXXXX 

_ Clop, clop, clop, clop... _

Four rubbed his head and sat up with a groan. His eyes first narrowed, then widened as he took in the scene. A world of crimson rocked before him. His body was propped up by a cushion of ruby-red suede, and the rumbling of elegant wheels shook the carriage he sat in. Flurries of snow drifted outside the window, scraps of ivory lace carried on by the wind, and Four rested his cheek against the scarlet interior of the carriage. A snowflake drifted through a sliver of space between the window and the windowpane and landed on Four's nose with all the grace and daintiness of a fairy. The smithy brought his finger to his nose to wipe it away, then flinched. 

Oh.

His hands. 

Scarlet heat trickled down his arm and speckled the carriage floor, dripping off crushed and malformed fingers. 

Ah. 

The crimson he had seen... 

It belonged to him. 

...

...

So this was the afterlife. 

Four rested his hand in his lap and stared out the window. The carriage bounced along the road, headed towards a place Four did not know and could not fathom. 

He had never even heard the stone fall. 

Perhaps that was a good thing. 

As Four adjusted to the blurriness of the window and crimson dripping down his forehead, he could gradually make out shapes in the snow. Poinsettias dotted the road, ruby-red and gold, almost as bright as the rivers of scarlet pouring down Four's figure. Evergreen pines dripped with snow and sap. Tiny crocuses sprouted behind the carriage. Their petals unfurled before Four’s eyes, the soft flesh twinkling with a rainbow of metallic pastels, sparkling with wisps of Four's memories. Hot afternoons with Grandpa Smith. Evenings in the forge. Mornings spent on the road, with Ezlo chattering on his head and an oversized sword in his hand. Midnight around the campfire. Zelda's smile. Grandpa's laugh. 

A thousand of wonderful things trailed behind him, a million memories of the beautiful things he had left behind. 

Four smiled, and his tears mixed with his blood. 

The carriage came to a stop, and the world waited with baited breath as Four stepped out. His eyes drifted behind him, widening as he realized that the carriage had no horse driver or horses. The snow beneath him turned red, and a silken sheet of fog obscured the carriage from his vision. Platinum fingers of wind combed through his hair. Flowers sprouted underneath his feet, crocuses the size of his fingernails and miniscule daisies with iridescent petals shining with the colors of his memories. 

The world begged him to move on. 

And so he did. 

His gaze trailed along the path of flowers, and his body followed a few hesitant steps behind. A stream trickled alongside him. Floes of ice bobbed on top of the water, shaped by the rushing steam into small hearts and stars, bubbling away into a horizon that didn't exist. Four walked by its side, taking care not to look at his reflection. 

The stream led him to a small, lonesome dock, empty save for a singular silhouette that lurked at its edge. A warm wind from far away hummed over the dock, smoothing the goosebumps on Four's arm and tugging at the silhouette's robe. 

Who was that? 

They seemed familiar. 

Four approached, taking care not to do so too quickly. Despite his cautious pace, the creak of the wooden dock betrayed his presence, and the silhouette turned around. 

Four stopped breathing. 

"Link?" 

The silhouette's words carried like a robin on an eastbound wind. It hung above Four like a guardian angel and pierced his heart like a traitor's sword. 

That voice. 

_ That voice... _

"Dad?" 

The figure said nothing, then pulled back the thick, black, face-obscuring hood. 

And before Four stood his father, his face as bright and compassionate and thoughtful as it had been the morning before he died. 

"Link? What are you doing here?" 

The river burbled, the sky sighed with ice, and flowers swayed on the breeze. 

"I died.” 

"Oh." 

"It's okay. It happens." 

His father nodded, unable to make eye contact. 

"I suppose that's true." 

A heartbroken, icy silence stood between them. 

"I'm sorry," Four whispered. He wrung his hands together, marveling at how his crushed limbs still worked. 

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I left you and your grandfather. I should have never joined the army." 

Four wiped away the blood on his cheeks. 

"It's okay. I'm just happy to see you again." 

Four's father bit his lip and looked away. The two stood five paces apart, marveling silently at how a distance so small could feel so large. 

"Did it hurt?" Four asked. “When you died, I mean.” 

"Only when I realized I would be leaving you." 

"Oh." 

Silence. 

"I missed you so much," his father blurted, eyes twinkling so bright that Four could see his reflection in them. "You have grown up into a truly amazing young man." 

Four's heart burned within him. His eyes watered. His limbs grew numb. 

As if possessed, Four sprinted forward and held his arms out before him. His father caught him and swung him into the air, and the pain of all the things they remembered but didn't want to faded away. Four's father swung him around once, then twice, then three times. Four dissolved into laughter and wrapped his arms around his father's waist, leaning in and marveling at the warmth he hadn't felt in more than a decade. 

The snow continued to fall, and Four blinked away the flakes on his lashes. 

It felt strange to smile. 

He hugged his dad tighter. 

"Link, may I ask you a question?" 

Four nodded. 

"Tell me, did you live a life worth living?" 

Four's smile slipped away. A million and one memories ran through his mind, and his eyebrows furrowed. The answer should have been a resounding yes, a confident declaration that testified to the years he had spent protecting his loved ones, his kingdom, and his friends. Even his death had some sort of meaning to it. The title of martyr was always a romantic one. 

And yet, Four couldn't bring himself to say yes. 

Perhaps it was the regrets. Perhaps it was memories of the days he had spent alone, working in the forge instead of spending time with his grandfather. Perhaps it was the recollection of all the nights he had gone to sleep angry, the days he had spent fuming about things he could now only call meaningless. 

Or perhaps it was the deep, terrible thought that he had died too early to tell. 

"I don't know," Four finally replied. 

His father held him tighter. 

"Where is everyone else?" Four asked, his question partially muffled by his father's coat. 

"Across the river." 

"Why aren't you with them?" 

The river burbled loudly, and the dock creaked beneath them. 

"I'm waiting for your grandfather. I wanted us to go across together. I never...I never thought you would arrive before him." 

"Oh." 

A robin flew overhead, and Four pulled away from the hug.

"Do you think we could wait together?" 

His father smiled. A real, genuine, golden smile. 

Four stopped crying. 

"Of course," his father replied. "That's more than I could ever ask for." 

Their hands folded in each other's, and Four finally understood what it meant to rest in peace. 

The silence eventually gave way to idle chatter, then to energetic banter, then to tall tales and exaggerated stories. Four's father told him dramatized retellings of his experiences in the army, and Four responded with accounts of Wild and Wind's craziest pranks. They talked about silly things, like swords and blacksmithing, and serious things, like meatloaf and muscles. Four dangled his feet over the dock's edge as his father tried (and failed) to skip stones across the lake, and the two laughed at his increasingly half-hearted attempts. 

Eventually, their revelry faded away, and a thoughtful silence hung over them. Snow fell. The two huddled together under his father’s coat, and Four ran his fingers along the poinsettias embroidered into the dark fabric. 

They were strange flowers, to be sure. Their petals were colored gold instead of the usual scarlet, and the stitching was stilted and uneven. His father’s handiwork. He had never been very good with his hands. 

"Link," his father began, his voice noticeably more somber than it had been a moment ago. "May I ask you another question?" 

"Sure," Four said. He brushed the snow off his elbows and thanked a nameless goddess for making cold nothing more than a concept in the afterlife. 

"Listen, my son, and please answer me honestly. There's something you're regretting. I can feel it. We share pieces of the same soul, you know. What is it?” 

Four's breathing switched to manual, and he looked far away. A dried trail of crimson still glistened against the snow, the only memory of Four's arrival to the afterlife. 

"...it was very sudden. When I died, I mean." 

"It often is." 

Four nodded, trying to let the logic of his father's words soften the ache in his heart. 

It didn't work. 

His father turned to look at him, a purple-tinged understanding in his eyes. 

"It happened too early, didn't it?" 

Snow fell. The hesitant silence from before grew between them, but Four pushed it away before it could grow any more intoxicating. 

"I...I don't know. I feel like it did. There's not really anything I can do about it, though." 

His father nodded, stood up, and walked to the edge of the dock. The river grew dark with his reflection, and the deceased army commander beckoned for his son to join him. Four did as instructed, his eyes hidden behind lashes laden with snow and half-frozen regrets. 

"Link, look at me." 

Four obliged. Their eyes met, and for the first time, Four noticed the rivulets of crimson trickling from a wound in his father's chest. 

"When a spirit first crosses into this place, they carry with them the injuries that brought them here. The wounds are as permanent as they are in the corporeal world." 

A sweet-smelling breeze skittered above the water, and the world glowed ivory and blue. Four's father heaved in an uneasy breath and continued. 

"Our scars can only be removed in one of two ways. Either you cross the river, or you return to the world of the living." 

Four's eyebrows shot into his hairline. 

"You can just go back?" 

Four's father shook his head. Crimson trickled down his coat and pooled beneath his feet. 

"Almost never. Only if your body has been restored and your will to return is still strong. And there is only one way to know that." 

His father shifted his focus from the river to the young hero at his side. 

"Link, you're no longer bleeding." 

Four looked down at his hands and chest. They were longer malformed. No longer crushed. No longer twisted and broken and wrapped in scarlet. 

Hope rose within him. 

His father continued, a thoughtful smile on his lips. 

"Your friends have restored your body. How they did it, I do not know. Why they did it -- it doesn't take much thought to fathom. Now, I must ask you, do you have the will to return?" 

Light glistened off the snow, and birds sang in the trees. The smell of pies and pines drifted through the air. 

It was a beautiful day to be dead. 

Four said nothing. 

"My son, all the beautiful things I left behind for you are still in the land of the living. There is beauty here, and there is beauty there. This is your choice. A second chance to live a life worth living, should you choose to take it."

Four blinked away the water in his eyes and stared at the island beyond the river. His reflection stared back at him from the water, a thousand colors shining in its eyes. 

"...I don't want to leave you,” Four whispered. 

He opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by his father's left hand wrapping around his right. 

"You won't have to."

"You...you can come back with me?" 

His father smiled, a nostalgic sorrow gleaming in his eyes. The poinsettias embroidered into his cloak shone red and gold with a love deeper than the sea. He said nothing more. 

Four held his father's hand tighter and let out a soft, tremulous breath. His eyes closed and his mind quieted. 

And his soul flew. 

It flew high above the land of the dead, spiraling through velvet clouds and leaving a trail of tears as it went. The sky opened up before him, parting with a brilliant burst of song, streaked with purple and green and blue and red. Birds of paradise flitted through the air, flanking his soul like an entourage of angels. 

And Four came back to life. 

XXXXXXXXXX 

“Do you see that?” 

“I swear I saw his eyes open.” 

“Do you really think this is a good time to crack jokes?” 

“Shut up. I know I saw something.” 

Four groaned, wincing from the sudden barrage of sensation that flooded over him. Cold, hot, dry, wet, scratchy and smooth and so many things he could barely bring himself to process. He heaved in a deep breath and let the oxygen filter through his lungs, eyes sparkling with ecstasy as they opened to a sky full of stars. 

He was alive. 

“Oh-- oh Hylia -- oh Hylia he’s alive!” 

“Someone get Time!” 

“He’s alive! Oh goddesses -- how -- he’s alive! What--” 

Cacophony exploded around him, a chorus of elated cries and disbelieving whispers. A thousand pairs arms wrapped around him, one freckled, one tanned, one criss-crossed with scars and another taut with muscle. Someone offered him a bowl of soup, another buried their face into his neck, and another rubbed the aching muscles in his back. Tears dripped into the grass, thankful prayers were sung to the goddess, and the moon shone high above. 

It was a beautiful day to come back to life. 

Four inhaled greedily, leaning against Sky and Time, letting the moonlight trickle down his face. 

“You can relax,” Sky whispered, his words drifting like cinnamon in the air. “It’s okay.” 

Four nodded his head and sat up, realizing with a start that his right hand was still ground into a fist. 

He opened his palm. 

Inside it sat a tiny poinsettia, petals pulsating with crimson and shining with health. 

And, written in tiny, golden letters upon each petal, was a now-familiar exhortation. 

_ My son, live a life worth living.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And there we go! I hope you enjoyed -- this is a little more intense in comparison to what I usually write, but I read a very similar fic to this a while back from the JJBA fandom (I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called, but it was just exceptional) and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Even the summary is heavily based off of that fic’s summary. :O
> 
> Anyway, if you’ve read this far, I’m assuming you like Linked Universe and maybe Four as well! If that’s the case, then I must humbly request that you consider following my friend Anh on instagram (@anhnie_draw), her art is incredibly colorful and incredibly beautiful, and she’s just a wonderful person to be around. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this story! If you had anything you wanted to say about the story, please don’t be afraid to leave a comment! I always respond to each and every comment I get. Aside from that, happy holidays and happy new year to you all!!


End file.
